Paris - Amour impossible

{from my last stay in Paris in January. This city and all it represents moves me deeply. Having roots is good}

Stomach knot. Mixed feelings.
Leaving tomorrow.
One week in Paris equals a confused lady.
One home - two homes, I am not sure, was I ever sure?
Whirlwind of friends, hugs, memories, family.

Scarves, hats, boots.
In the cold streets I fly above the ground.
Tired, elated, I slap the wet asphalt.
I feel stylish, I feel pretty,
I feel all the looks on me,
I feel all the the city watching me,
Supporting me.

Engulfing in the mouth of the subway,
I gasp and I warp in the warmth of the core
Of the capital.
I go places at the speed of the people.
I bond with my roots,
I belong.
I talk and I joke in the language I was raised in,
I am witty with so much ease
I am me.

But

I could not have been
The star of my own show
It could not have lasted
I always fall from my throne.
An angry reality
Always seems to get back at me.

Parents, and the dirty reality
Bitter, sad, nostalgic and heavy.
There is no escaping
Being belittled,
Being imprisoned,
Wanted to be deleted.

I go back in hiding.
I go back to being
Another me in another country.
Speaking and writing other ideas.
Allowing myself to invent a new life
Where memories don't tie me down
Where the future is not written.

But Paris

I will be back

Soon